


My Loves Are a Promise I Intend to Keep

by wanderingsouls



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 17:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20118757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsouls/pseuds/wanderingsouls
Summary: Based of chaoticcolorstudio's DTIYS :)





	My Loves Are a Promise I Intend to Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Parents!Klance AU #ccsdtiyscallenge](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/504379) by chaoticcolorstudio. 

> [1] Oh, mi hermosa niña --> Oh, my beautiful girl
> 
> [2] ¿No me crees? --> You do not believe me?
> 
> [3] lo sé --> I know
> 
> [4] Nuestro pequeño monstruo --> Our little monster
> 
> [5] cariño --> sweetie
> 
> [6] ¿Qué me has hecho? --> What have you done to me?

According to Lance, Emily wasn't equipped for her crib yet. The only place that felt safe was either in one of her father's arms or tucked in one of their chests.

  
  
Today was one of those days, Keith thought lazily as Emily's cries gave way to coos and giggles. Perched in one arm, head cradled in the other, Lance walked into their bedroom with Emily kicking and swaying her body like she was dancing.

  
  
"[1] Oh, mi _hermosa_ _niña_, did you miss your Pop and Papa?" Lance asks Emily, gently laying her body next to Keith before climbing into bed. Both their bodies caging Emily in a warm embrace.

  
  
"She always misses us." Keith mumbles, gazing at his daughter lovingly who stared at Lance with imploring eyes. She clenched her tiny hands, asking for her father's fingers which Lance gave willingly.

  
"Uhuh," agreed Lance, nodding his head at Emily.

  
  
"But one day you're going to be all sassy and independent!" cooed Lance, twitching his pointer finger in Emily's tight grasp, her smile growing wider and wider.

  
"[2] ¿No me crees?"

  
  
Emily giggled.

  
  
"[3] _lo sé_," Lance whispered. "You're gonna be a monster."

  
Emily wiggled her body, eyes never leaving her father, smile unwavering. With tired and tender eyes, Keith smiled, wrapping an arm around Emily.

  
  
"[4] Nuestro pequeño monstruo!" Lance sang, leaning his face down to Emily's and blowing gentle raspberries against her small cheeks. Making the young child cry in an unknown language.

  
  
"Emily," Keith called, his voice low and raspy from sleep. But his voice went to empty ears as Emily continued to stare at Lance.

  
  
"_Emily_," Keith tried again, tickling her belly which twitched with laughter.

  
"Emily, look at Pop." Keith said, moving his hand to card though curly locks of oak.

  
  
For a moment, Emily flipped her head to look at Keith with a smile but was quick to look back at Lance.

  
  
"Sorry, [5] cariño." Lance chuckled, looking at Keith sympathetically.

  
  
"Though, she _did_ look at you."

  
  
Keith huffed, watching Lance continue to coo and talk to their daughter in Spanish like time was nothing. As if Emily would stay five months forever, her tiny palms like an acorn against their own.

  
  
He observed the crinkle of Lance's eyes with every smile, the pale divot of his scars, and the stubble that was growing back in. Keith stared at what looked to be grey hair amongst, familiar, smooth brown which could simply be the glare of the Sun. He stared at his husbands lips, chapped, yet secretly soft. Eyes falling back to where Emily and Lance were bound, Keith saw the callouses that ran over his lover's skin like a well-loved book; nails uneven from a quick trim.

  
  
Keith watched. He documented. He preserved this moment, like many others, in an album to look back on as the years passed. Moments to cherish and laugh on. Memories to cry and hold on to.

  
  
History, Keith hoped, that would never be forgotten.

  
  
"She's going to be something, isn't she?" Keith whispered, playing with Emily's hair, propping himself on an elbow to look down at her and finally get her attention.

  
  
"Mhm," hummed Lance, mirroring Keith when Emily let go of his finger in favor of grabbing onto Keith's ink locks.

  
  
"I really hope she doesn't go through a Sharpay Phase." Keith said, sighing at the thought as Emily tugged him closer with fistfuls of his hair.

  
  
"_Do_ explain." Lance giggled, whispering Emily to be gentler to her father.

  
  
"One, all she wore was pink."

  
"She's wore white and blue before."

  
  
"_Barely_. Two, they were all different shades of pink."

  
  
"Babe, you wear different shades of black."

  
  
"It's different! She never chose the right shades of pink to wear together." Keith winced as Emily gave one hard yank to his hair as if daring him to scold Future Emily's choices.

  
  
"So, basically, you want her to have taste?" Lance asked, shaking a finger at Emily.

  
  
"I guess,"

  
  
"Well, be prepared for disappointment because if she's anything like you she won't wear anything but black and if she's anything like me she'll spend the first couple of years in costumes and onesies."

  
  
Lance laughed at the sad, defeated look of his husband to the truth.

  
  
"Don't look _too_ excited, Babe." Lance said, reaching his spare hand to cup Keith's cheek, titling his head so that they fell into a kiss.

  
  
As Keith had thought, Lance's lips were chapped. But, as their lips moved in a slow, familiar rhythm, Keith felt them smooth and soften.

Keith sighed into the kiss as they fell and pulled against each other like the whisper of the tide; with how they rose and fell like the lick of a flame. It would have been a nice morning-kiss if Emily hadn't yanked Keith's hair again. Slamming his face into Lance's; their noses unhappily tingly.

  
  
"_Emily_!" Lance chided, but his attempt failed because how could he not laugh at Keith's hovering figure over Emily who had full control of where her father went. How could Lance scold his daughter who was still reaching and grasping Life by, well, the strands. As a father, Lance couldn't hold it against Emily for her curiosity and the demand for her father's attention.

  
"Baby," Lance giggled, leaning down to look at Keith's pained and tired face. "You okay?"

  
  
"_No_," Keith groaned, the roots of his scalp burned and ache from Emily's abuse and his nose still stung from colliding with Lance's face.

  
  
"Hold on."

  
  
Leaning down on both elbows, Lance gently pried Emily away from Keith's hair and brought them to his own face. He pursed his lips and blew so that his mouth became an engine every time Emily squished his cheeks.

  
  
"Oh no!" Lance cried between revs.

  
  
"[6] ¿Qué me has hecho?"

  
  
Rubbing his head and running his hand through tangled locks, Keith listened to Lance's cries and Emily's gleeful huffs.

  
  
"I'm going to go make breakfast." Keith whispered, kissing Lance's crown.

  
"M'kay." Lance hummed.

  
Before rolling out of bed, Keith gently took one of Emily's hands and kissed it.

  
  
"Love you, Darlin'."

  
  
Grabbing a hair tie, Keith pulled his hair into a messy bun and walked to the bedroom door.

  
  
Before leaving, he leaned down and pulled Lance in for a kiss. Whispering a promise against Lance's lips.

  
  
"I love you so much."

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be working on my fics like AMFN but, as usual, I can only focus on things that weren't even on my To Do List!
> 
> I don't really care that much this was really cathartic and the art alone gave me inspiration to write. So, how could I not?


End file.
